


Sanded ink

by koalaoshiz



Series: Of papers and pens. [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (unless there is some underlying storyline I'm trying to figure out but who knows), Dorks, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Heavy Angst, M/M, Summoner AU, Summoner Shiro, Talk of non-con, Those are just random moments I decide to write, Voltron au, but Shiro doesn't really see it like that, dorks falling in love, everyone is going to make an appearence, glad I can tag now- Phone is a horror when it comes to try and tag, it's mostly related to Shiro and Lance's master-slave relationship, litteraly master-slave relationship, no beta we die like men, slowly but surely, spirit lance, what even are my tags anymore?!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:51:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22302133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalaoshiz/pseuds/koalaoshiz
Summary: Taking a step forward is difficult when you are all alone and the world is against you. It's the hardest when you cannot trust anyone to watch your back, to watch you grow.But it's time for Shiro to take a step towards healing.It's time for Shiro to get his Feathered.
Relationships: Lance/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: Of papers and pens. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1605331
Comments: 18
Kudos: 24





	1. Droplets of blood, shining.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking a step forward is difficult when you are all alone and the world is against you. It's the hardest when you cannot trust anyone to watch your back, to watch you grow.  
> But it's time for Shiro to take a step towards healing.  
> It's time for Shiro to get his Feathered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really, really love this AU of mine and I love to explore every corners of it.  
> So have Shiro and Lance's first meeting, with added to it a tragic memory of Shiro's who explains his distrust in the older Parchment families.

To summon a spirit and make a contract, Shiro had learned the hard way there was no need for special places, complicated ceremonies and twisted invocations. No need for places with historical and magical memories, no need for heavily runed circles and moonlit nights.

If you had the means to do it, nevermind the place, the heavy symbolic weight of it and the grandiose feeling of the moment.

A feather and parchment could be bought in shops, prices ranging from acceptable to overly priced, the design simple in the former and bejeweled in the later. Inlaid gold, sapphir powder, shimmers coming from binicorn mane twisted everywhere. A runic circle could just be a wooden hoop with inscription sculpted on the side and be it at night or with the sun above your head, as long as you provided both feather and contract, a spirit would be attracted to you nonetheless.

If things had continued to go their normal way, Shiro would too have a ceremony with grandiose settings, irremplaceable heirlooms and the warm encouragement of his family. He would have had taken his father's feather, a beautiful thing he had only seen securely showcased in a reenforced glass case in his office. He would have received from his mother a parchment of the finest silk, simple in it's design but with designs you could only see at specific angles. 

If things had happened without incidences, his family would still be here. Not resting in a cold, impersonal mausoleum with his ancestors. 

His aunts and uncles would have filled the garden, elegantly holding drinks and chatting idly while his father would have repeated once more the steps of the summon while his mother would have groomed his twin brother back into a more proper state.

While his parents death at taken a huge toll on him, it was his brother's that felt the worst. Since Shiro had always been the most sickly, he had lived vicariously through his brother's adventures, be it wether Ryou had been playing with their parents Feathered or following their father to Parchment reunions or at his work. 

He had only been better for a few months before their coming of age ceremony, too. He hadn't know what to do when they suddenly got attacked, only being able to hide himself and play dead when several individuals had began killing everyone in sight. The whole scene had been a confusing mess, everyone screaming around, candles being bumped into and on the wooden patio, liting a fire that propagated to the house. 

He couldn't remember much from that evening, just a horrible smell of firewood mixed with something akin to bacon that must have belonged to the members of his family trapped inside. When he had got back his senses, the few Parchments that had come to investigate had been curt towards him, attributing the disaster to a rogue group that would be quickly taken care off.

He had been the only survivor. There hadn't been much of a wake, only a handful of family friends and not many more colleagues of his father's attending. The closed caskets had left him frozen, silent as if the weight of the world had suddenly fallen on his shoulders. 

The coming years had been harsh on him; he had to be fitted a prosthetic, his right arm being mangled beyond repair this fateful night, his father's role had befallen on him just as suddenly so he had to mingle with old Parchment families, who only saw him as a business partner near bankruptcy. The culprits that had been arrested and executed had later been revealed to him as being scapegoats, the real murderers being one of the oldest and most powerful family: the Galras.

When he went to whom he had thought had been his family's partners and friends, he had been laughed at, patronized as if he could believe that the Galras would have lowered themselves to such an extent. Powerful families didn't need to kill another, especially without reasons. 

Even the D'alteas, who he had thought to be close to, especially when Ryou and he had been friend with their leader's daughter, Allura, had closed their doors on his face, repeating the same thing as the others about the Galras.

For someone who had lived so much hardships in such short time, it had left a rough imprint on him. The trust in others his parents had carefully worked in him was shattered, especially concerning the uptight and proper older Parchment families. Never had he received so much as a comforting embrace from any of them, only empty words and hollow promises. 

Newer families pitied him, of course but there was a genuine sadness in it. Never had he received more care than when he opened his shop for the first time and people flocked in to give him food or see how he was. He grew close to Matthew Holt, son of two 'rising stars' in terms of magical engineering.

It was Matt that had convinced him to sign a contract, take in a spirit. Sound arguments were enough to cave Shiro's stubbornness; it was true there were things he wouldn't be able to do without a spirit, unable to create or enchant without a magic source. He had managed to live on the remnants of his family's warehouse but even there provisions were dwindling.

It was obvious putting off the ceremony wasn't going to be viable for much longer.

So he finds himself alone in his garden, nervously fiddling with the feather and parchment in his hands, both bought a few days prior in a shop both Colleen and Sam had recommended to him. They were of good quality but nothing too special; the feather was black and white, speckled like an agate with the tip of the feather a bright red, contrasting with the snow white vane. The parchment was only slightly shimmering in the light, the basic contract form written in silver.

The circle he had found in his mother's storage a few years back, reminder of simpler times and a gift of her own mother. She had told him she would have liked to have a daughter to give it to her as per her own family's tradition but had promised he would be able to use it for his second contract, the first one being so important and deserved the use of the original Shirogane summoning runes. 

"Stop being scared, Takashi." He said to himself, jaw clenched tight. "Just take the first spirit interested, that's not complicated. If that appears to be a mismatch, you can do it again. There's no pressure."

Lying to himself was easy; he didn't have anyone to help him choose the spirit most compatible with him. If he had been home, Omu, his father's first spirit would have guided him gently. Hashō, his mother's, would have done the same for Ryou. Right now he was alone, unable to bring himself to ask the Holts to assist him. 

"Alright. Deep breath, then do it." He added, taking a long intake a air to calm his nerves before he stepped inside the circle, seeing it shine a soft lavender light.

"My name is Takashi Shirogane. I call upon the unseen world to heed my words; here is a contract, a call for a soul. Magic for magic, a soul to help." He finishes his tirade by stabbing his left thumb with the quill, the feather absorbing the blood in its reservoir. Some droplets fell on the ground where they began glowing, before being absorbed by the circle. 

The world outside of his circle became pitch black, the dark only cut off by the silhouette if the objects around him. Since everything was giving off even a small amount of magical energy, it was visible in that stage. 

The spirits began appearing not long afterwards circling him with a visible curiosity. They were strange to look at, amorphous blobs of magic kept together by their own density, like stars in the sky. Some were shining dimly, others were fierce and colorful. None of that mattered much in terms of power, Omu had told him. Magic was fickle, capricious and simply uninterested in human's standards. 

Spirits were created when magic simply coagulated together strongly enough to support a consciousness. It was deemed at this stage "mature". Then it either found a Parchment and a contract or the pressure of the magic holding itself together became too strong and the spirit collapsed in on itself, releasing the magic it was made off into the world to possibly being used or become part of a new spirit.

Shiro was surprised to see there was at least thirty spirits floating all around him, watching him with their eyeless forms. Clutching the feather tight in his prosthetic hand, he became anxious over which one to choose. There were spirits that apparently _wanted it more_ than others, pushing in front and flashing in front of his face, locked to the feather yet keeping a safe distance still. 

He didn't know what to do, now. He regretted not asking Sam to join him. Shiro didn't want to choose randomly, didn't want to make a rash decision just because he needed to have a spirit so a spirit he would point at.

These blobs of compressed magic seemed far too eager to sign, as if having a physical body was far more important than who their master was going to be consequently. They were too desperate to live to see if themselves were compatible. 

That was disappointing.

But despite the ten or so spirits hovering around his feather, there were more still waiting around the circle, gauging the situation. They seemed disinterested, taken aback by their more brazen congeners to approach themselves. Perhaps too shy for Shiro's liking. 

It was a difficult task to decide, he realized, sighing. He didn't know what criteria he should act upon, didn't know if he should just take the one with the color more pleasing to his eyez.

Realizing his hesitation, the fiercer spirits began vibrating in anticipation of, phasing through one another and flashing brightly in the hope he would be interested in them more.

While thinking of that, a soft, tingling sensation on his left hand shook him from his thoughts. Shiro lowered his eyes to it, surprised to see a spirit of soft blue floating near his hand, before floating down and then up again. Shiro realized, a few seconds later, that his thumb was still bleeding and his blood was still falling on the ground, drops by drops and that tingling sensation was the spirit trying to make it stop, however poorly.

Shapeless and without physical body, pressing itself on the wound was useless. Taking pity of it, Shiro put his thumb in his mouth to help the clotting process, the spirit following up until it was at eye level with him. Shiro saw inside of it tiny specks of red, blinking slowly like Christmas lights.

It hovered in front of his face for a few seconds before pressing itself against his forehead, the zone above his nose, the sensation making Shiro want to sneeze. To avoid going cross eyed, he closed his eyes, feeling the white tuft of white hair hanging low on his forehead fluffing up as the spirit passed through it, before it made a beeline to his prosthetic hand. 

Curiously, he never made a move to get closer to the feather, just the zones of his body where he had been hurt. The obvious thumb he cut for the blood, the scar on his nose, the white hair he gained from the stress and healing magic and the false arm he had to get after losing his real one. 

Shiro's heart tightened a smidge as he realized this spirit was concerned _about him_ , not about whether he was going to gain a physical body or not. Where the other spirits were fighting against each other to be the one chosen, or simply shyly waiting from afar, this one was making sure Shiro was alright. It showed such empathy, such sympathy it made a soft smile appear on his face.

"Are you concerned about me?" He asked the spirit, who stopped moving for a few seconds before swirling in on itself. So, that was positive. 

"Do you want it?" He shook the feather softly in front of the spirit who flew back slightly, as if intimidated. 

"You don't?" Shiro was a bit confused but the spirit began blinking rapidly. It felt hesitant, perhaps nervous. The other spirits backed off slightly as if Shiro setting his choice on the blue spirit was enough to make them calm down.

"It's ok if you don't." Shiro added, sensing the spirit's confusion. "But I would have liked to make a friend of you, seeing how concerned you were about me. I don't really care about power, about social conventions. I prefer having someone that want to stay by my side because of mutual friendship and empathy, not because all there is between us is a binding contract."

The spirit's light dim slightly, the red inside of it becoming more apparent before making a dash for the feather, twirling around it with a bright light. Chuckling, Shiro took the contract and signed his name on it, activating the intrinsec magic, making the parchment floats in front of the spirit.

The feather was taken from Shiro's hand as the spirit lifted it, able to do as much now before it paused just as the quill was going to touch the paper.

"Right. You need a name." Shiro pondered, looking at the spirit. "what do you think of 'Lance'?" 

The spirit seemed to think about it, the feather swaying from left to right, up and down before it began writing the name in a shaky but lisible handwriting. There was a flash from the contract before it dissolved into dust, Shiro momentarily blinded from the sudden light and when he managed to get his vision back, his grey eyes met deep blue ones, looking back at him from a young man's face. 

His skin was terra cotta, his hair a wild auburn, wearing a simple white tunic with - strangely and adorably - Converse. He looked slightly younger than Shiro himself. And if he was honest with himself, he would say that Lance checked absolutely all the boxes of his preferences in men, everything that attracted his gaze in the street and the date apps. 

Lance smiled at him before bowing, the unchosen spirits going near Lance and rubbing themselves on him before floating off, disappearing from their view.

"They're happy for me." Lance said before his hand shot to his mouth. "Huh. That's a weird feeling. Talking. I like it."

"I'm glad." Shiro chuckled, feeling the warmth of magic in his veins as the background began appearing once again, showing a setting sun. The sky was paint pink and blue.

"Thank you for choosing me, master." Lance said to him with a smile as he bowed once again. "It's an honor to be serving a Parchment such as yourself."

"Please Lance." Shiro was a bit embarrassed by how ceremonious his Feathered was. "I said I wanted a friend. That's not how one act."

"Oh." Lance laughed before taking Shiro's hand in his, placing the feather behind his ear. "That need some adjustments then." 

"Of course." Shiro said, surprised to see Lance so bold but touched he wasn't shying from his prosthetic, even in physical form. "Then, how about we go home?"

The smile he got in return gave him his answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try writing more of it, be it short snippets of daily life or something a bit more substantial~


	2. Comfort

He wakes up with a strangled shout, covered i sweat and cold. It's always cold when he wakes up so suddenly, as if the world was just showing him the fiercest middle finger he could imagine, while his other senses were wildly protesting against it. His ears were ringing, his vision was blurry, light flashing randomly. He could faintly taste blood in his mouth and couldn't quite know if it was because he bite himself in his sleep or the raw ferocity of his nightmare had left the unpleasant taste itself. Trembling from all his limbs, Shiro fought against the tears that threatened to fall from his blearry eyes. 

He didn't know what he had dreamed about, what had caused him to wake up so violently; it made him sick to _know_ he had been on the receiving hand of his tortured brain but being unaware of what exactly made him react this way. In a way, it was all coming back to that night, he knew that but there were still parts of him that felt kind of suspicious upon not remembering even a lick of it. 

And speaking of lick, he slowly realized there was a soft, warm tongue licking his cheek, followed with the tickling of whiskers. Ah. He had woken up Lance, then. Feeling guilty about that, Shiro shifted in his bed to fall on his back, his left hand searching a few seconds before coming back with a heavy but familiar weight. Settling the Flemish Giant over his chest, Shiro took a deep breath before opening his eyes again, realizing that some light had been turned on, thankfully at low intensity. Bright enough so he could see the contour of things but not enough to burn his sensitive, sleepy eyes. Lance's doing, then. 

"Mas- Shiro?" Lance asked, flundering a little and nearly calling Shiro Master again; Shiro had been against it since the beginning, clearly telling Lance to call him by his name or not bother at all. All this talk of master and pet was too much for him as he had been raised in a family that thought of the Feathered as more than just tools to use and discard when not needed; They were employee; necessary to make a Parchment able to use magic; yet it was still hard for the rabbit spirit to follow this command. Since it was a habit ingrained into each spirits once they signed a Contract, stepping out of such habit was a task in on itself. Yet Lance was managing splendidly. 

"Are you aware? Do you know who I am?" Lance asked again, concerned clear even if his rabbit face was less expressive than his human's. 

"I'm fine." Shiro said, hiding his face under his elbow. He felt Lance's doubt through their link and winced slightly as the rabbit nibbled on his arm, one step from thumping on him.

"It's just a nightmare, Lance, it's alright." Shiro tried again, lifting his arm to look at Lance. Since they made their contract, Lance has been switching between his forms quite frequently - almost as if he couldn't decided which form he preferred most. It felt weird at the beginning for Shiro since the Feathered he had known since childhood always stuck to one appearence or the other, and all the Feathered he met since; it was always surprising to see Lance so causally shifting from being a cheeky little human brat to try and appeal to his good side with his adorable bunny cheeks to have Shiro forget he just broke one of his favorite plate. (Shiro had to invest in a dishwasher after that).

"It's ok to be scared." Lance said, voice soft as he muzzled Shiro's chin, his whiskers tickling him. Shiro tried not to laugh at the sensation, gently pushing Lance's muzzle away only for him to relatiate and stick his nose to Shiro's throat only to nible on it like the litte shit he was. Offended, Shiro pushed him off his chest, a bit aggravated to hear the Feathered laugh at his reaction. Lance couldn't hurt Shiro in any ways but it was still a hassle when Lance was actively trying to raise some reaction from him. 

"You can talk to me." Lance said after a while, his laughter having died down. "I'm your Feathered, you can rely on me."

"I know." Shiro sighed as Lance, now in human form and wearing some silky pajama that hanged off his shoulders, sat down next to Shiro, placing a hand on his thigh. "I'm sorry I woke you up with my problems."

"You know I don't need sleep, I was just indulging myself a little." Lance said as if he hadn't fallen in love with the idea of lying down on any soft surface to "play dead and get a smoother skin out of it" wasn't attractive to him in the first place. 

"I'm lucky you care so much." Shiro's voice was muffled as he leaned against Lance, feeling drowsy and sleepy once again. It felt... strange because before getting Lance, he had never been able to fall back to sleep after a nightmare. But now, all he had to do was bask in Lance's reassuring presence and calm aura to feel the clutches of sleep gripping him, promising him the rest of the night nightmare free. He doesn't quite register Lance blowing a warm wind on him to dry his sweaty skin, nor the kind hand passing through his hair as he was laid back down in his bed. A soft, furry weight was back on his chest again. 

He'd had to thank Lance in the morning, is his final thoughts before he fall asleep. Letting him run wild in the nearby park would certainly please the Feathered. 

As for Lance, he praised himsef for once again being of help to his master, even if it meant becoming ensnared in a vice like grip fo the rest of the night.


	3. A matter of point of view.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Parchment party often involves bringing one's Feathered, unlike the more reserved reunions. Lance is sure to join Shiro's opinion on them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't turn out _quite_ as I would have liked but I like it either way. It's fun to work on that AU, despite sometimes tredging on not so light topics. 
> 
> Enjoy your read~

There are moments in his short life that Lance thinks "Shiro is exagerating again." It can be because Shiro doesn't like rainy days and tells Lance it's much worse than it actually is just to avoid stepping outside, or when Lance accidentally finished one of his favorite cake and Shiro is showing how betrayed he was by that - the first time, Lance had felt horrible, terrible as giving trouble to your Parchment was a huge no go but now unless it really was an emergency or something Lance was absolutely sure was worth such a reaction, he didn't bother react to it and went on his way to do something more productive. Like the laundry. Or checking how much products they had in the back of Shiro's store. 

But he knows, oh he knows than other times, Shiro's over reactions are warranted, always on the nose as to why Lance should be following Shiro's words and keep away from this or that. It had been at first a bookstore, which the owner was anti-Feathered and never allowed any of them inside no matter the weather or the explanation - even warded his door against them, which was frustrating when Shiro was full swing into one of his bad days and Lance wanted to buy a book for him. The second time was when he refused to have Lance befriend one other Feathered and Lance would have been pouting for a while if he hadn't heard of said Feathered attacking his own Parchment and subsequently disappearing as his Contract was nulled. 

This had been chilling to hear, even if investigations had later on reported it as a suicide. To force a Feathered to go against one of their primordial orders - never harm your Parchment - had been disturbing and he had kept his Flemish Giant form for a few days afterwards, knowing it was the most inofensive of his two forms. 

This time too, Shiro had been right. Was always right when it came to anything about the Old Families and Parchment meetings. This was just a simple party, full of snack food and liquor but the atmosphere was suffocating, dangerous. As if a snake was coiling around his middle and squeezing slowly, surely. He was making efforts to follow Shiro around the big room, to keep him satisfied and somewhere comfortable in this place but through their link he knew he was just stalling the issue. 

"Takashi Shirogane." A high pitched voice sounded behind them and Lance saw Shiro make a face before smoothing his expression on a carefully blank mask as he turned to greet the person that hailed him. 

"Petrona Huldüg, I presume." He says, voice sweet but void of any warmth. It was all business to him and she was just an inconvenience to add to hisalready torturous presence at this party. 

"Correct." She laugh and it is grating Lance's sensible hearing. Petrona is a bit smaller than he is, skin darker and hair of pure black coiled around her haid in an elegant braid. She was wearing a somptuous blue sikly dress and a blue bird of paradise on her shoulder. Seeing its black dot eyes look at them with contempt, Lance was assured it wasn't a mere pet but her Feathered. One of them assuredly. "I have heard you took on a Feathered a few months ago but this is the first time you brought it to an event."

"Well now you saw him." Shiro huffed in his 'could you now please fuck off' voice. Lance never heard him use this voice more than tonight and he was both baffled and proud to be here. 

"Indeed." Petrona giggled as she began turning around Lance, one of her hand touching him as she went. "What a pretty form, totally my type." Her voice was like a purr, making Lance shiver but definitely now in a good way. "Would you mind lending it to me for the night? I won't break it." 

Lance's shivers doubled at that and it took him all his strength not to jump away from her. While he really wanted to, she was a Parchment and this would count as an insult. Feathered were forbidden from insulting a Parchment. Especially in front of them. (Lance's quips to Shiro weren't insults. His Parchment had made sure to let Lance know he could voice his discomfort in any ways and shapes if ever he felt to do so.)

"Absolutely not." Shiro growled, slapping her hand away from Lance, a dark look on his face. Shiro was feeling on the verge of murderous, Lance could feel via their link and he didn't quite know if this was because she had touched him without Shiro's permission or was too cocky to be standing alongside him. 

"Don't be so possessive." Petrona laughed, her Feathered flapping their wings in an upset fashion. Her face was on the verge of scrunching up from anger and it made her look ugly. "It's just one night, I'll send it back to you first hour in the morning. You won't be missing it for _that_ long."

"And you should learn the meaning of 'no', miss Huldüg." Shiro's voice had hit the deep end and the shivers that ran up Lance's spin definitely weren't due to fear. 

"Don't you know who I am?" Petrona spat as she clutched her hands on her sides, a sneer reducing her fine facial features into an ugly cubism work. 

"A word from me and you won't be anyone anymore." Shiro countered, earning himself an anxious glint in her eyes. Even the bird of paradise seemed shaken by Shiro's toundra and its feathers were drooping in a miserable fashion. "Now get out of my sight before I decide you're not fit to belong here any longer."

Lance was kind of dumbfounded by Shiro's ire even if he was grateful not to have been passed to her to be used as pleasure boy. He didn't quite know why Shiro was so angry about, even if it was true she shouldn't have asked that in the first place. This was a formal event, they were wearing fancy dresses and ironed suits! To blatlantly ask for something to Shiro, belonging to a much more important and older family, without even proposing something in exchange was just purely outrageous. 

"These new-ish familes doesn't quite know about propertiy values, don't you agree?" The new voice belonged to a silver haired man, accompanied by a very elegant but very deadpan looking woman. Even if they were linking arms like a conventional couple, Lance knew the woman's role was to be his accessory. 

"Lotor Galra." Shiro said plainly, shaking Lance from his thoughts about how long it would take for the Feathered's gaze to freeze him entirely. 

"Now now, don't look at me like that. I was just a step away from showing her the exit." Lotor's voice was sweet as honey but Lance knew that was only a ruse, to make his prey fall to his words. "But she should have known to keep herself in touch. Messing with one's belongings can prove itself hazardous."

"I forgot most Parchments viewed their Feathered as objects." Shiro sighed, saying more of his thoughts than he did on the regular when he was meeting other Parchments. Lotor only hummed, sipping his champagne. 

"And I forgot the Shirogane and the D'Altea viewed theirs as servants." Lotor bemused, twirling the liquid in its glass. "It's always amusing to see how different can one view on things can be, don't you think?"

Shiro only sighed at that, a small crease between his eyebrows indicating an upcoming headache. The way back home wasn't going to be pleasant, it looked like. 

"Now, I must have taken too much on your time," Lotor said with a teasing lilt in his voice. "I hope you enjoy yourself for what's left of the party." And with that he left, his Feathered still at his side, the image of a perfect decoration for everyone to gawk at. Was it how he looked alongside Shiro, too? If he could pull at least an ounce of that elegance, it would make him happy, if only a little. But for now, all he could do was watch over Shiro and hope nothing else disturb them, as he wasn't sure he could hold Shiro from snapping at the next person talking to him. 

Lance sighed softly. 

Shiro had definitely under-exagerated how annoying and dangerous those Parchments events were. 

He totally deserved a treat once they were home. A treat for him and a bubble bath for Shiro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda diving into some topics lightly for this chapter, as a way of testing the water~  
> I'm not quite comfortable with slavery matters but for the sake of this story, I shall do my best!
> 
> Also, guess who Lotor's Feathered was? The one to guess will receive a cookie!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was unexpectedly difficult for absolutely no reasons 
> 
> enjoy anyway~

"-sell a lot of different stuff. Mostly regular enchantments and wares like that; books of faster learning, protective charms, gems for minor elementals summons... We also have those nifty pre-made rolls of spells that you can pull and tear for one time use like toilet pap-"

"Already back from your errands, Lance?" Shiro asked the Feathered as he walked away from the shelves he had been restocking, brows furrowed in amused exasperation. It had been calm all morning since Lance had been sent to buy materials in another store and Shiro had trusted him with probably more than the Feathered could carry but apparently he had worried for nothing. Lance was back, holding several of his cotton bags while the young man he walked in the store with carried a few more. 

Shiro casually watched Lance place the bags behind the counter, taking the others from his apparently new friend and doing the same. Then he smiled at Shiro before leaning against the stranger. 

"Shiro, this is Hunk. I met him at the new kiosk that popped up on Veller Street, the Vrepit Sal's and the muffin I took was meh but then! Coming out of left field, the saltiest, most handsomest man ever, dishing out the most profound critique on it I've ever heard. He instantly stole my heart." Lance said, holding a hand to his chest where his heart was, mimicking swooning afterwards. Shiro chuckled at that, especially when it seemed Hunk was already accustomed to Lance's antics.

"Oh and Hunk, this is Shiro, my Parchment. The owner of this store and the kindest man I've ever known."

"You don't know a lot of them." Shiro chided him, tutting the Feathered. "You can't make good comparrison points."

"Well if the base point is a man such as yours, then he'll have some trouble finding someone to hold a candle to."

Shiro laughed at that, extanding his hand to shake Hunk's understanding why Lance seemed so taken by the young man. Both of them were good judge of characters - he didn't quite know if Lance's was a byproduct of sharing a Contract with Shiro or something he already had inside him - and Hunk didn't strike him as dangerous or ill intentioned. Just a normal someone that met Lance by chance and both of them acting as if the other was his soulmate, his long lost bestfriend. 

Admitedly, Shiro was a bit jealous Lance had never acted that comfortable with him when they first met but their circumstances were different. It was all different when you had a Contract weighting between the both of you. 

"I don't know if you're a terrible flatterer or just extremely polite but in any cases, it's nice to meet you. Thank you, too for helping Lance bring back his errands in one piece."

"Oh no, you don't have to. It was a pleasure, I've never quite met someone like Lance so it was a pleasure talking to him. I swear he can make anything he talks about interesting." Hunk laughed, shaking Shiro's hand without second thoughts. It felt kind of refreshing as people always took a second before either doing it or withdrawing politely. It always made him uncomfortable and the only persons to not be bothered by it were the Holts and Lance. Apparently, Hunk was now joining the small group. 

"I'm the most interesting creature in the world." Lanc said cockily, smiling from ears to ears as if heh ad bestowed heavy knowledge to them. 

"That's a lot of claim for someone who had difficulties cleaning dishes." Shiro said befor inviting Hunk further inside the store. It wouldn't do to have Lance's guest standing there when he could be better off with a good cup of tea on a couch.

"Shiro!" Lance squicked as Hunk laughed gladly taking the unspoken invitation, even taking off his shoes when the door leading to their home was closed behind him. 

"Oh, I'd like to hear that one. In exchange, I can give you stories about how I nearly created a golem that tried to eat all of my clothes."

"Deal." Shiro smirked as Lance began complaining and pleading not to talk about his embarrassing stories. But just as much as Shiro loved to take pictures of Lance in his Flemish Giant form, he adored talking about his woes and reveling his in mortified face. 

In any cases, he was glad Lance had been able to make a friend, who saw him for who he was and not as a Feathered. Perhaps he'd let him meet Pidge later on, even if there was a risk of them to go along like a house on fire. 

He'd have to stock up on protection charms, in the near future.


	5. A comfortable place to rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some instalments doesn't have much when it comes to add more into the world and the people living in it but this is currently a comfortable pace I'm having as I'm currently being drowned out by Bangs whose final deadlines are closer than I'd like.  
> I probably won't write a chapter a day like I seem to be doing - or making them 1k long - but this AU is my precious baby and I won't be neglecting it, that's for sure.

Shiro knows he's been caring a lot about Lance. He cares about his budding tastes in clothes and food, his newfound love for beauty products and self care, his profound distaste for any fabrics too synthetic - he didn't know Feathered _could_ get allergies, and to acrylic to boot - but that made him more aware of things than usual. Shiro knows that his caring and somewhat overbearing attitude towards Lance could be steaming from his early on issues from his whole family being killed and the older Parchment families abandoning him to the wolves, from him having to fend for himself in a world that was whispering to him to get cold-hearted, to stop caring about others. To just live his life holed up somewhere where he couldn't get close to anyone and thus not lose anyone. 

It hadn't been his choice to befriends the Holts initially and hadn't been his idea to summon Lance, but those weren't decisions he was regretting. How could he? The lot of them had brought light were his own had been snuffed out and he was always surprised when a laugh was brought up by any of them. His house had been rather cold and empty when he first bought it but now that Lance had joined him, new furnitures were bought and small, colorful trinkets appeared on any surface that demanded decorations. Other home improvements had been needed too, like a brand new, top of the line dishwasher to compensate for Lance's slippery fingers or a new iron when the old one went awry and one of Shiro's favorite shirt was lost to its heat. 

He was glad to be wealthy enough those new appliances wouldn't be putting him in the red any time soon. 

But there had been something else that had been plagging his mind lately, still related to his Feathered companion. He had known that for gaining a body and signing the Contract, Lance had some guidelines on how to act before Shiro pre-programmed in his mind; some of them were innocent enough but a few had required Shiro to be a bit mindful of his actions and words, sitting Lance down a few times to try and get him to stop following them. Having Lance call him by his name had been a hassle, getting him to stop following him three feet behind whenever Shiro stood to do something in another room a bit more difficult. Asking Lance to speak his mind whenever he wanted, about whatever he wanted - even to complain about Shiro had taken a few weeks before Lance understood when and where to talk, the things he could say and the rest he had to keep under wrap. 

One of the most frustrating for Shiro as of late was Lance's habit, now that he wasn't waiting behind Shiro like some sort of anxious butler, to sit on the floor whenever Shiro was on the couch or in his office. Lance somehow knew that sitting on the kitchen floor was a no-go but he always said he was uncomfortable sitting on the couch if it wasn't for him comforting Shiro in his Flemish Giant form. Shiro had pointed out that he had found Lance laying on the couch in said form having naps. But since sitting and sleeping were two different things, he let it go. 

But Shiro had clearly felt this needed another home improvement, like any other little changes he had made to his life and lifestyle over the course of the few months since Lance's summoning. From a newly furnished bedroom to getting a new toilet built for when Lance decided to take a few hours soaking in a bathtube, what he had in mind wasn't that expensive in comparison. Barely even an inconvenience at all. Shiro wanted the best and the best was what he received. 

He had waited fro Lance to leave the house to visit Hunk, something Shiro had wholeheartedly approved when the subject was first touched upon, to get in his car directly to the nearest furniture store directly to the rug section, taking a few minutes (or twenty but he wasn't looking at his watch that desperately) to find the softest, plushest rug for Lance's comfort. He bought two large, a whool one of a neat cream color (to go with his walls), an off-white, faux fur for the living room and a smaller one, dark gray he was thinking of putting in his office.

Getting them in his car had been a hassle - and the fact Shiro had gone to a normal furniture store meant he couldn't use any magic to ease his travel back home but simply folding the back seats solved his slight issue. Carrying them from the garage to their respective room had been slightly more difficult and challenging. Setting them up had been more satisfying and it looked really good too. He hoped Lance would like it as much as he did.

There wasn't much he could do now apart from waiting for Lance's return so Shiro decided to be somewhate productive in the meantime. Walking to his office, he made himself some tea before setting himself in front of his computer, There were some urgent mail waiting for him that he didn't have any energy to deal with last week and he couldn't put them off any longer. While he didn't really accept works from individuals but some of them has been clients of his family for a long time, he couldn't stop serving them suddenly.

Still, it was always a hassle dealing with them, had been even more before Lance as his lack of Feathered had restrained a lot what he could do. Now, it seemed his options were only limited by Lance's power. He wouldn't be able to make any Chimeric grade potions or High tier spells but Shiro actually preferred Lance's versatility and adaptability; most Parchments were limited by their Feathered's affinities to specific spells and crafts, often requiring of them to make more Contracts to fill the gaps. He didn't need any more Feathered with Lance as the young spirit was a real Jack of all Trades. And if he couldn't quite do what he was tasked with, he'd always find a clever solution to compensaite his shortcomings.

He don't know wuite much how long he had been on his computer, taking notes and doodling a few ideas on a notepad when he heard the door slam and it's his cue to stop working as Lance was finally home. Groaning, he stretched his arms above his head, hearing his back cracks and his articulations protests against this rough treatment. Sitting and doing minimal movement was definitely not quited for him, he thought as he left his office to check on a suspiciously silent Lance. Usually, the Feathered would burst into the room Shiro was and talk about his day, who he saw and what he did but there had been nothing and apart from some scuttling, it didn't look like Lance was around. 

Rounding the corner, Shiro was met with one of the most adorable scene he had to witness with his Feathered yet: Lance was in his flemish giant form, rubbing himself on the rug, rolling on it and then darting off to another corner of it to repeat his actions. It was as if he had never felt something like that against his own fur and couldn't help himself from scouring each inches of it with a blissed out expression. 

Chuckling, Shiro took out his phone and set the camera on Lance; he had only seen the Feathered be that enthusiastic about a few things already but each time he got to see Lance like that, Shiro was delighted. Through their bond and the short distance between them, he could feel how extatic Lance was as he did another lap around the rug to flop on each side. He couldn't help but laugh out loud when Lance missed a corner and slide on his side before he jumped out of surprise, looking up at Shiro with a shocked expression on his face.

"Shiro!" He cried out, trotting towards his Parchment before sitting down on the floor, face in his hands. Taking pity of him, Shiro put down his phone before sitting on the couch, looking at Lance who was idly playing with the rug even in his human form. 

"I take you like it." Shiro said and Lance hummed, going back to lie on the floor before he shot a glance at Shiro.

"How much did it cost?" 

"Not enough, in my opinion." Shiro answered truthfully, nodding at himself. Really, if he had found a rug that had been more expensive, he'd have bought it just so Lance could be that more comfortable. "You're comfort is my priority, Lance. We're partners, bound by more than a mere contract."

"Well... Thank you, Shiro. Truly, I don't thin I could have found a better Parchment than you." Lance smiled at Shiro from his position on the floor and, with the sunlight coming _just right_ , it made his eyes sparkles more than a star filled sky. 

"I'm not that perfect, Lance. But... Thank you. For believing in me."

"Now delete that video." Lance threatened, pointing a finger at Shiro, who simply laughed, taken by the happiness Lance always seemed to brought up inside of him. He truly enjoyed those simple, happy moments. He hoped they lasted long enough.


	6. high grass

"I must repeat the rules, Lance." Shiro said, kneeling in front of his Feathered in rabbit form, holding a leash that was connected to a harness around its cute body. "We're in a totally human part of the town, there's no Glamour Guards so shifting is out of the question. Talking is also out of the question unless you are close enough to me so I can use a Hush Stone. You are not to leave the park, you are not to folllow strangers and most of all, _you are not to attack and hurt any dogs_. Well, a little is fine as long as the dog learns its lesson but nothing above scratching, ok?"

"I knoooow, Shiro!" Lance whined, thumping in irritation. He looked like he really wanted to go run but held back since Shiro hadn't given him the go ahead. It was so cute to see him so impatient, especially since he didn't have to keep a facade unlike in Parchment places. Shiro didn't quite know if part of his personality came because of his rabbit form or if he was already like that as a spirit but that was just too damn endearing.

"I just want to make sure- " 

"God you're like a helicoptere parent." Lance cut him him, his front paws tapping the ground in front of Shiro's feet. "Just let me go have some fun, you promised I could run around without care here!"

"Alright." Shiro chuckled, taking off the leash from the harness and smiling as Lance shook himself before darting off, leaving his master alone on the bench.

Shiro didn't mind, really. The weather was excellent, there were enough people to create a nice background noise but not enough for it to be too tiring in the long run. Children were running alongside dogs, throwing balls and screaming in pure delight when they got knocked out on the ground. It was a refreshing place that was beginning to soothe Shiro from all the stress he got from work.

"That's the first time I saw a rabbit that big." A voice on his left nearly gave him a heart attack as his head whipped to see who was talking. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." The man laughed awkwardly, obviously ashamed of himself. 

He was a nice looking man, probably his age; dark brown hair and a skin that was darker than Lance's, Shiro considered the stranger attractive but strangely he didn't feel awkward or bubbly like he had been before, when an attractive man talked to him. He chalked it off on having too much on his plate with his shop, Lance and the different invitations to Parchment events he received by the dozen now that he finally had his Feathered and the older families interested themselves more in him, now that he could actually be useful to them. 

"He's a flemish giant." Shiro answered back, waving off his excuses; he hadn't been truly scared, more surprised than anything as he didn't think someone would want to interact with him. "They're pretty intelligent, too."

"I gather." The stranger said, sitting next to Shiro. "I saw you from afar, looking kind of stressed as you talked to him."

"Is it that strange?" Shiro asks, frowning a little. He didn't really quite know what was the etiquette when it came to pets in public space so he had just talked to Lance normally; if that was what distinguished them from normal humans, then he would only have himself to blame. 

"Not really, I talk to my cat a lot. Of course, I can only do that in the privacy of my apartment because I can't let the idiot out but I would definitely do it outside as well."

"You don't have a dog?" Shiro was curious as to why that man was here, then. It wasn't strange for people to come to the park to relax but it was a _dog_ park, which means people most definitely brought a dog - or in his case a big bunny - here. 

"Well... no. My apartment is far too small to have a dog. But I dogsit for a friend since I work mostly at home. Here, that's the one." The man pointed to a large, husky like dog who was apparently chasing after Lance. Shiro's heart went in his throat at the idea of Lance being unable to defend himself as sharp teeth bore into his flesh but his fears seemed to come from nowhere as he saw Lance stop and turn around, the big dog sliding a little as he imitated the Feathered, before laying down on the grass as if to await instructions. Lance took advantage of the respite to scratch himself before he darted towards the dog, slamming himself into its side and running away, the dog chasing him down with a bark. 

"That's a nice dog." Shiro complimented the man as he watched Lance binking in front of the dog, unafraid for his life. Talk about fast friends.

"My friend'd be happy to hear that." The man chuckled before he seemed to realize somehing. "Oh, I didn't even present myself. I'm Curtis."

"Shiro." Shiro smiled, shaking Curtis' hand before his attention was brought back to Lance, who was satisfyingly sitting on top of his dog friend who was himself lying down and seemingly uncaring of it. 

The next two hours, Shiro spent them turn to turn talking to Curtis and reading his books, always with a watchful eye on Lance who was absolutely enjoying himself on the grass with his dog friend - whose name was Kosmo, Shiro learned. Then, Curtis had to go and bring Kosmo back to his master, which in turn made Lance come back to him, saddened. The other dogs were a bit scared of him, he said to Shiro, so it wasn't as fun to play with them. It was like they sensed he was their superior so there was no real genuinity in playing with them. 

"I didn't realize you could talk to other animals." Shiro hummed as he stroked Lance's fur, who was laying across his legs, tired from playing too much. 

"You didn't really ask." Lance replied, looking blissed out as Shiro gave attention to his sensitive ears. "And it's not really _talking_. It's more feels and snippets of thoughts rather than full on speak. It's kinda weird but Kosmo was 'clearer' than the others. Dunno why."

"Maybe because you spent more time with him?" Shiro hummed, distractingly. He was thinking of products related to animals, now. Perhaps something that allowed them to speak or to think more rationnaly like big monkeys. Allowing them to do simple errands and making life easier on those who didn't have a lot of magical power. 

"Sounds like you're jealous." Lance snickered, before he turned to its side. The position didn't seem that comfortable but Lance still had that satisfied expression on his bunny face so what did he know. "I should probably be wary of that man, too."

"Curtis? Why?" Shiro frowned a little, feeling his cheeks warms up a bit. 

"Because he was throwing googoo eyes at you, like the ones you only have for food. It's easy to realize you're his type."

"Lance." Shiro's voice wasn't harsh but only slightly demanding as he felt a little uncomfortable with Lance as the Feathered was obviously trying to set him up with someone. "How about we go home before it gets too cold?"

Lance looked at him before sighing, understanding that his Parchment didn't want to thread that subject. Dating wasn't quite an issue for Shiro but that man was pure human, which meant it would be very hard to concile their two world. If he made a mistake, the man's memory would have to be erased, if the Glamour didn't do anything to his perceptions beforehands. 

Their worlds weren't meant to meet that way. Shiro wasn't sad about the missed opportunity though, as he could keep Curtis simply as a friend. And to be totally frank, there wasn't much anyone else could bring him that Lance wasn't already giving him, so there was no point in dating. Simply as that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shiro is either oblivious or really trying to not think of Lance as a potential boyfriend/lover, what's with his status as Feathered and the moral problems that would bring (is Lance truly agreeing to it or is it just because his Contract forces him?)
> 
> Guest appearence of Curtis and Kosmo! I really, truly wanted to bring more of the canon VLD crew in and now I can! Also there is a very, very subtil foreshadowing there for a chapter I'm currently working on (but not posting yet since I want it to be _perfect_.


	7. Mending. Meddling.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slow days were never something Lance liked. And today, his instincts would be proven right as something comes to disturb the peace inside their house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of something a little bit more plot-y~   
> Hope you guys enjoy!

There was always something eery and uncomfortable about slow days that put Lance on edge, the promise of something going to happen that was always hesitating between "good something" and "bad something". Where his instincts told him to be prepared without a speck of _why_. That's why he always preferred to be doing something, always being on the move, listening to music and busying with anything he could put his hands on; be it to finish prepare spells for a private customer, to resupply the shop or to help Shiro with his garden, if Lance wasn't napping or relaxing with Shiro whenever his Parchment needed to take a break, it generally made him nervous and paranoid. This day however, as he tried to clean the already dust free and sparkling house as Shiro was taking a much needed nap, Lance knew _something_ was going to happen and disturb their little bubble of peace.

The first ripple in this thick atmosphere came in the form of a knock on the door: loud enough to be heard from the living room, firm enough to be polite and leaving no space to refuse to open the door. Even if it seemed the person never learned how to use a doorbell, Lance felt he _had_ to open the door. Be it his Feathered nature or the implacable way of the knocking, he couldn't refuse it, even if he really wanted to.

It's with reluctance that he left his dust sweeper on the shelf he was martyred, a frown between his eyebrows. The person at the door was still knocking, imperiously and Lance had to fight a groan, silently thanking everything he could that Shiro hadn't been woken up. His end of their link was silent and peaceful, sign that his Parchment was still fast asleep and also not bothered by a nightmare. A relief all in itself.

He opens the door with more strength than he intended to before freezing, heart in his throat. In front of him was a young woman with striking white hair and piercing blue eyes, making Lance feel like he was standing in front of a predator that wouldn't hesitate to rip his throat off. She was accompanied by an oranged haired man with an impressive mustache that looked much friendlier than her.

“Is Takashi here?” She asked with an english lilt to her voice. Jogging his memory, he remembered Shiro had talked about her. In passing. Through his teeth. Lance didn’t really understand why he felt so much pain coming through their bonds as Shiro was reminiscing about her and it wasn’t something he was going to ask anytime soon. He couldn’t bear the thought of bringing painful memories to his Parchment, for any reason.

“He’s resting, please come back at a later date.” Or never, he thought while trying to close the door but struggling to do so, realizing a few seconds later that the woman was holding the door open with much more strength he would have given her at first glance. 

“Please. I need his help.” She insisted, pleading with her eyes more than her voice. “He is the only one I can trust in that delicate affair.”

“He never told me he trusted you, miss.” He politely retorted, earning himself a low chuckle from the orange haired man that he was probably not supposed to hear but did anyway, thanks to his keen hearing. “So please don’t embarrass yourself by pleading to a Feathered.”

“Knowing Takashi, he values you more than that.” The woman growled, still trying to get the door to open as Lance was pushing with all his strength. 

“Doesn’t matter.” Lance nearly stuck his tongue out before taking back the reins of his temper. “I can’t trust you not hurting him. You already did and it could worsen his already weak attendance to Parchment reunions.”

“ _I_ never personally hurt him.” She insisted, voice growing sad. “Circumstances happened and…”

“Be it you or your family, you pretty much stabbed me in the back by abandoning me to fend for myself, Allura.” Shiro’s voice sounded from being Lance, making him yelp in surprise and for his hold on the door to weaken, surprising Allura who continued shoving and making the door hit Lance square in the jaw. “Do you know how heartbreaking it is for an orphan to see people his parents trusted turn their backs on me?”

“I’m.. I’m sorry Takashi.” Allura stammered a bit before getting a hold back on herself. “But why I’m here has nothing to do with the past, with us.”

“Still insensitive, I see.” Shiro growled as he turned his back on them, not outright telling them to get away from his property which Lance understood as a very reluctant invitation to come in.

He lead both the woman and her Feathered - as Lance tacitally understood being in the vicinity of the mustached man - to the dining area, a grey zone between the kitchen and the living room; both zones he considered off limits for strangers. For people that made Shiro feel a turmoil of negative emotions, molotov cocktail so potent it seeped into their link and made Lance uncomfortably aggressive towards them. He wouldn't act on it, sure, but the _need_ to protect Shiro from them was strong.

The atmosphere is awkward between them as Shiro and Allura sat on opposite sides, their Feathered bringing tea cups and small biscuits for them to snack on. It wasn't like Lance liked having someone else in the kitchen with him, especially not the Feathered of someone his Parchment considered an enemy (not quite. But a bitter friend would be nothing else for Lance). He couldn't deny the other Feathered's help or concern over his own Parchment.

And as Coran stood behind Allura, Lance cheekily smirked and sat beside Shiro, looking at the other two with contempt. While Lance had never really liked sitting at the same height as Shiro, this time he had felt like asserting his weight in this - quite literally - standoff.

"Why are you here, then?" Shiro asked, looking cold and reluctant to interact with her while waves of his amusement at Lance's behavior rang through their bond.

"A few days ago, some associates of mine rescued a group of Untethered in the process of being branded and sold off. A few are in a worrying state." Allura said, earning herself a flat look from Shiro, still. Lance felt difficult to hide his surprise but was compelled to imitate Shiro.

"But one of them, of the few that weren't branded yet, is giving me difficulties. He doesn't care that we helped him, he still lashes at us, trying to harm whenever we want to calm him down. As you're aware, wiping the memory of an Untethered is useless but we try to welcome them in our community, guiding them towards kinder families."

"And this one refuses the offer." Shiro said, understanding where she was going. "I still don't know why you're coming to me for that."

"You're much more familiar with those who are unaware. With your knowledge, you'd be better suited to help him understand it's for him we're doing that."

Lance looked between the both of them, frowning. The poor guy really did have his free will taken from him, being shoved left and right without his consent. No wonder he wasn't cooperating. While Untethered were pretty much alike to Feathered, minus the whole spirit thing and shifting abilities, they followed different rules altogether. Making one of them behave would take both time and efforts.

The power they granted was to be obtained either through their willing cooperation or branded coercion.

"I'll talk to him." Shiro said after a moment, gritting his teeth. His annoyance was clear through the link and Lance could take a guess why: Allura, coming from a family that never quite interacted with non Parchment people. Or talked to one for anything else than a few words here and there. She would only see them as small children needing to be guided by a more knowledgeable hand. 

"That's all I ask." Allura smiled, visibly relieved. She doesn't seem to realize Shiro was looking dejectedly at her, caring more about the unfortunates Untethered than what Allura wanted. He knew Shiro had a mean streak so if he could help the guy while inconveniencing her, he assuredly would. Allura and Coran didn't stay for long afterwards, certainly aware of the tension in the room. When Shiro assured them he would come - later in the day and with his own means, they left. It was only the two of them in the house then, Shiro grumbling under his breath as he left the dining area, leaving Lance to his own thoughts. He had been right earlier. Slow days always brought bad things.


	8. Hurting. Surging.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro drives off to Allura's house. Lance is worried about his Parchment.

The road to the D'altea household took them a good hour, after Shiro worked his nerves up to take his car keys and rolled out of his alleyway, Lance sitting shotgun in his Flemish Giant form, as Shiro liked to caress his fur to quell his nerves. Not a lot of words were exchanged between them but that was fine. They didn't have to talk necessarily.

Despite his nerves, and Shiro's thrumming through their bond, Lance managed to fall asleep, curled up on his seat, the gentle rock of the car and the vibration of the engine a good recipe for a short nap. He was woken up by Shiro gently pulling at his ears and Lance yawned before he jumped off the car, blinking a few times to get his bearing back. He didn't really know how long he had been sleeping for but he knew for sure it had been enough for Shiro to regain his composure and get his nervousness on check.

Hopping after his Parchment, Lance didn't dare say a word as a very classy Feathered opened the door to them and invited them in, before a second one showed them the way towards their destination. 

The house - no, scratch that, the _mansion_ was immense. The sheer size of it was mind-blowing and Lance could see differences in the magic between one hallway and the next: a good assumption was the mansion had been expanded upon times and times again, following the style of the original part. Despite the very good job, his eyes were able to distinguish the faint layers of magic showing the age of his surrounding. He couldn't _quite_ tell how old everything was - that wasn't his area of expertise in the first place, and the few spirits able to do time magic weren't keen on getting a contract - so all he could do was tell _this is more recent than that_ and call it a day.

After a few minutes, he felt himself being picked up and held close to a firm chest. Snuggling closer to Shiro, Lance felt glad he didn't change form as the nervous petting started again, showing how Shiro truly felt compared to his neutral attitude.

They finally reached a door, after traversing what felt like two football fields and an indoor plaza with a fountain. The mansion was ridiculously big, making Lance nervous. He was accustomed to smaller rooms, comfortable places. Not big, not wide. Not so ornately decorated it felt like even breathing in the hallway was knocking the value of everything by half. 

On the other side of the door was an antechamber, nearly the same size as their living room and probably serving the same purpose. Two doors on each sides showed the Untethered was at least comfortable in this place despite not being free. The thrum he felt as they passed the threshold told him there was a ward on it, which surely served to keep the Untethered from going out. 

"I need to ask Allura some things. Mind staying here and keeping him company until I'm back?" Shiro asked him and Lance felt like refusing. He didn't want to leave Shiro all alone in this place, didn't want to be left alone here either. But he also knew the boy would feel more at ease with someone innocent, and what else was more innocent than a rabbit?

"Don't take too long." He said instead, receiving a pat on his head before Lance was left alone in the antechamber, heart beating fast.

They said the guy was lashing out and trying to harm them. There was a slight possibility he would try to do the same to him. Despite that, he kept calm and gently send out inquisitive waves over the field of magic impregnating every surfaces to compel the other from coming out.

There was a short moment where nothing happened and Lance was getting bored when the door that lead to the bedroom opened carefully, while the person behind it was still out of sight. 

The man - probably the same "age" as Lance based on physical cues - was definitely wary when he passed the threshold, head swiveling from left to right. He sported long-ish hair and a mean look on his face, wearing clothes that didn't quite fit him, not because the cut was wrong but probably more because he didn't feel comfortable enough in it to properly wear it. 

It was still tense and silent when he left fully the bedroom, crossing the sorta living room to stop dead in his tracks when he finally spotted Lance, carefully lying on one of the couch. 

The amount of raw magic emitted from the human was making Lance's fur stand on the back of his neck. It felt like an untamed volcano, spilling lava everywhere without being quite conscious of it. Compared to his placid sea, the difference was enough to make Lance feel... weird.

"A rabbit...?"

Yep, that's what he was, currently. But that didn't deterre the young man who frowned at him and eyed Lance like he was a menace. Which was also true. But the heat in it felt a bit uncomfortable. 

"Considering what happened to me and where I am, it's not too far fetched to think you're a magical rabbit. Are you?" His voice was aggressive and no nonsense, which was quite damning because would have loved messing with him. But since Shiro had asked Lance to be accomodating while they were there, why not answer some questions? 

"The technical term is Spirit. Or Feathered, since I have a physical form." He answered, hind leg coming to scratch at one of his ears. The black haired boy reeled back from hearing his voice, apparently not ready to have a rabbit _talk_ back to him. 

"huh..?"

"Are you deaf or is your mullet blocking the sounds? I'm telling you I'm a magical rabbit."

"You're... Ok so I'm definitely not crazy..." He mumbled the last sentence which Lance picked with his keen hearing. 

"Of course not." He said, placating. "Why don't you sit down? I'm sure you have questions you want answers to and I can give them. Can't promise an answer for _everything_ but I'll try."

The young man obeyed, still looking a bit wary but also like he didn't want to miss out on the occasion. "Why are you a rabbit?" He asked and well, that's was a fair question. 

"Because my Parchment made me like so." Lance answered and he received a nod at that. 

"What's all this... Feathered... Parchment...? How does that concern me? Why was I kidnapped by these lunatics?!"

"You were captured because you show similiarities with us Feathered. We are spirit beings summoned from the plane of magic to serve under a master, out Parchment, until the end of our Contract. The Contract binds our selves to our master's will, allowing them to draw magic from our beings to cast spells. Beings like you are called 'Untethered', since you don't come from our world direcly."

"But I'm a human! And as far as I'm aware, I didn't know anything about... magic or... what you explained. One day I was living my life and the next I was waking up in a cell with hooded figures observing us."

"Contrary to popular beliefs, Untethered aren't 'born'." Lance said, lying down comfortably on the couch. "They're an anomaly. All living beings are like... water pipes or, I dunno, small rivers? The magic pass through them, in and out without much happening. 

"We, spirits are what you can consider... Sinks. Bathtubs. Pools. Reservoirs. Depending on our power level and our specifications. We have the capacity to open the tap to let magic fill us until we're full and close it. Our Parchments then takes the magic from us like someone putting a glass of water inside the tub to water their plant, so to speak. Then, we open the tap again to refill our magic. Do you know what happens when you leave water in one place for too long without currents?"

"It... Stagnates?" The young man answered, still looking frazzled but less confused. "Does it hurts you?" He then asks in surprising concern. 

"It might even kill us." Lance answered truthfully, making the other pales. "We're closed tubes of unstable magic, that's just what happens, mullet."

"Keith..." 

"Whatever man."

"But what does it have anything to do with me?" Keith cried out, throwing his hands in the air.

"Untethered are like dammed rivers." Lance said, looking worried about an outburst. "The dam is built slowly in your life until it finally is able to change the small trickle of magic you humans usually receives to _keep living_ into a bigger stream, with a regular yet untamed output. Untethered are also usually more powerful than a normal spirit and able to use their magic in a wider field of uses than we can usually do. Basically, there's a benefit for using one of you." 

His explanation finished, he observed Keith mulling over the informations. It would be difficult for a normal person to believe what a _talking rabbit_ said but the guy seemed to digest it pretty well, all things considered. 

A knock on the door startled them both, Keith sending a worried glance at both Lance and the door. He looked like he was going to bolt at any moment. Frowning, Lance concentrated to guess who was behind it, relaxing immediately when the familiar feeling of _Shiro_ answered him. 

"It's ok, that's my Parchment." He told Keith, who didn't look that reassured but also didn't look like he was going to lock himself in his room again. 

Shiro took that opportunity to open the door, entering alone with a strange look on his face. Thoughtfulness with a hint of unease. But seeing the both of them sitting face to face - as much as they could with one of then being a rabbit - Shiro took a more light-hearted expression before closing the door behind him and walking to sit on Lance's couch, lifting the spirit to put him on his thighs. Accustomed to Shiro's antics, Lance only snuggled back to a more comfortable position.

"I'm glad to see no blood has been shed." Shiro chuckled, petting Lance's soft ears. "My name is Takashi Shirogane. You can call me Shiro."

"Keith Kogane. You're friends with these guys?" Keith asked, wary. A wave of uneasiness washed over Lance's side of their link but Shiro still conserved his expression maintained. 

"They owed me a favor." Shiro curtly said, prompting Lance to throw a glance at him. This, he would have to grill Shiro for later. "Unlike the other unbranded Untethered, you categorically refuses to accept their offers, which made them desperate for a solution. An Untethered without brand or not under Parchments is something extremely thought after and miss D'Altea is afraid of the repercussions it will have on your life."

"As I told your rabbit, I have a life outside this crazy stuff! And what's the matter with 'being branded'? I know those assholes were doing something painful to the others but I don't know anything more."

"A brand is... alike a contract. It's a leash that condemn a living being to sacrifice their lives for the sake of the people the Brand belongs to. They're unable to do anything for themselves, which is something highly debated in a lot of Parchment reunions."

"Ah yes, you told me about it." Lance mused, twitching his nose. "About making it illegal since it concerns living beings."

"Aren't you one as well...?" Keith asked, clearly confused, which made Shiro chuckle at his tone.

"I consider Lance a dear friend," He states, placing a possessive hand on his head. "but most Parchments views their Feathered as tools. Convenient batteries for their spell casting. But a lot of people aren't satisfied with their inherent limitations, which lead them to seek after Untethered."

Silence fell in the room after that, Lance's gaze shifting from Shiro to Keith worriedly. He didn't know if he should add anything to the conversation or let Keith digest it first. Lance wasn't really knowledgeable on how humans viewed their world after stepping in it, most humans being unable to see past the Glamour and the rest becoming Untethered, taken from their once peaceful lives. But if Lance knew one thing was how empathetic Shiro was and how he could see himself in Keith's tense shoulders and brash attitude.

"I reached an agreement with miss D'Altea." Shiro continued, lifting Lance by his forelegs so he could pet his paws more comfortably. That was embarrassing. "It would be unfair to rob you of your life. I talked briefly to the other unbranded and they either wouldn't be missed by people or willing to live with a Parchment of their choice. The branded ones are unfortunately going to be send in a recluse place so they can be safe. 

"You, on the other hand, are both unwilling and someone your community is going to search. Your phone is currently ringing non-stop from people worried about you." Shiro laughed at that and Lance was sorry for the poor chap that was guarding Keith's stuff and suffering due to a probably extremely emo ringtone. 

"What's the agreement?" Keith asked, looking surprised and somewhat nervous.

"You will be signing a basic contract form tying you to both miss D'Altea and I. Our families being well known and respected in our community, it will deter others from going after you. Since I live closer to the humans than her, I will be the one looking after you but you will have to get lessons from her to control the flow of your magic. Along with that you will also be required to let us tap into your magic, probably twice a week for me and once every two months for her."

"I thought unlike Feathered, not having my magic used by a Parchment wouldn't hurt me?" Keith asked, frowning.

"It's because you're powerful, mullet." Lance quipped, earning himself a curious glance from Shuro and an irked one from Keith. "Your magic is blazing and sharp. Shiro doesn't have much need for attack magic but some protection spells does. And miss D'Altea definitely needs it."

"So all I have to do is say yes and I can go home?" Keith was looking like it was too good to be true but Shiro never lied before and he wouldn't start now. 

After his agreement, everything happened quickly and efficiently, in true Parchment fashion. A contract was whipped from somewhere, the terms read thoroughly by Keith before he signed it, looking more relaxed than before. Lance didn't quite know how to feel seeing him so close to Shiro, but he chalked it on Keith being his magical rival. After all, even if more powerful, Keith lacked knowledge in it and Lance was sure he'd be less precise than he was. 

When they finally stopped close to Keith's neighborhood, Shiro had taken the opportunity to asks the younger man questions and make the atmosphere between them more relaxed and friendly. He even managed to have them share their numbers.

"So I can call you whenever?" Keith still asked, ready to get out of the car and face the friends he had unwillingly made worry. 

"For whatever reason, too. I really want to know more about you and be friends. God knows I need some."

"Alright." Keith chuckled. "Even pictures of my dog?" 

"I'll be sending you some of Lance so I would absolutely be delighted to see yours." Shiro answered truthfully while Keith was backtracking a bit, claiming he was kidding. 

Finally, he went out of the car before waving them off, Shiro taking advantage of not having the car turned on just yet to send a picture to him: a rabbit Lance with his dog friend from the park, taken a few weeks prior. The caption read _'he has made a good friend.'_

And as they finally drove off to go home, they could hear vaguely Keith shout out in shock: **"That's my dog??!"**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter had a lot of exposition and explanation lmao
> 
> I'm slowly but surely putting the framework for how this universe works, word by word~


	9. What of the past?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happens directly after chapter 8
> 
> A small chapter because I felt I needed to expand a bit after Shiro and Lance comes home.

They had a light dinner.

The _meal_ had been light, Lance corrects in his mind, putting the dishes away. The atmosphere during said meal had been, in comparison, heavy as lead.

It was not fault for Lance to try and small talk but Shiro had been too deep in his thoughts, turmoil being felt dimly through their links. Shiro had picked at his food, mind elsewhere and had left promptly after they had dessert. 

So Lance was idling, leaving Shiro alone until he could come talk without fear of being shut down, of being faced with a stubbornly silent Shiro. There wasn't a lot of subject where he closed himself off to Lance's gentle prying, but the ones he did - about his family, about the Old Families that betrayed him, about _who_ truly made him an orphan. The pain resonating between them when the subject was even brushed was enough to make Lance worry about his Parchment. His friend. 

When he realized he couldn't clean the kitchen more, Lance sighed, squatting in front of the dishwasher where he spotted a speck of dirt. 

Allura D'Altea, her appearance after so long without contact, just to selfishly asks Shiro to do her a favor... Lance was gritting his teeth at the thought, habit taken from his smaller form which always made Shiro worry. She comes in, pull at his heartstrings, demands of him to subdue Keith into throwing away his life. 

Everything would have been so fishy and emotionless if Lance hadn't seen guilt and worry in her eyes when she tried to push their door open.

It was hard for Lance to see her as anything but a threat, but it was also clear she had trusted Shiro with Keith's delicate matter. 

Sighing, Lance walked out of the kitchen, wandering the house in search of his Parchment. Sure, he could easily find him by using their link but the time he took to actually find Shiro would be used for him to calm himself further. 

Shiro wasn't downstairs, not in the living room, not in the laundry room. Not in the garden either. Chewing on his lips, Lance walked up the stairs, concern growing a bit more inside of him. The quiet was unsettling, once more.

There was light in the bedroom and, while there was still no sounds, as Shiro was sitting on the bed, arms crossed over his thighs, the silence felt deafening. 

Lance walked up to him, sitting on the floor and leaning against his legs, wanting to be as much if a physical anchor he could be. 

"I talked with Allura." Shiro said, after a moment, one of his hand coming to play with Lance's hair. The gesture seemed to calm Shiro, even if Lance wasn't in his bunny form right now.

"She said her father purposefully didn't help me to protect me, that he was investigating the head of the Galras to know the reason why my family was attacked. And that he died in a plane accident a few months after."

"It's not your fault. Nor your concern." Lance said, albeit a bit coldly. "It was his decision, his actions. You were unaware of it, guilting yourself over it is unhealthy. You were forced to be alone, without anyone to help you, anyone you could lean against in these hard times."

Lance felt Shiro's gaze on him and it took him everything he had not to look back. It was not the time. 

"You're quite cold." Shiro sighed. "But I guess I can't expect anything else. You felt it, right? My pain." Lance nodded at that. 

"Do you think I should forgive Allura?" He asked, kind of out of the blue. 

"Do you want to?" Lance asked back, finally looking at him. Shiro looked like he had cried but saying that felt almost wrong.

"She was my and Ryou's friend." Shiro softly said. "And I wish to be friend again. Not just for nostalgia's sake but because I want to." 

Lance didn't know what to say after that, so he kept quiet. The atmosphere between them was still heavy, still burdened with the weight of the past but it didn't feel so suffocating now. Some of the memories plaguing Shiro were made to rest, finally.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Heart is Hard to Translate](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22675864) by [cluelesspaladin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cluelesspaladin/pseuds/cluelesspaladin)




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